


Happily Ever

by mistyzeo



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:06:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared pulls a muscle, and Jensen practices his massage therapy.  Then they fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happily Ever

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [pyroblaze18] for her donation to [help_nz], and for the prompt. This is my first timestamp, and it would be outrageous of me to pretend I wasn't thrilled by the request. :D Beach!fic lives on! That said, reading the original isn't necessary to the understanding of this piece, because... well. Buttsex is self-explanatory. \o/
> 
> Much obliged, also, to [dugindeep] for the beta!

  


Jensen gets home from work to find Jared on the couch watching bad television, an ice pack tucked under his upper thigh. He's still wearing his running clothes, which means he hasn't been there long, and Jensen puts his backpack on the floor and raises an eyebrow.

"What happened, hotshot?"

"I think I pulled something," Jared says meekly, looking up. "Hi honey, how was your day?"

Jensen grins and sits down next to him, toeing off his shoes and pulling his legs up underneath him so he can lean against Jared. Jared half-turns towards him and Jensen gives him a slow kiss, and then says, "It was fine."

"Good fine or bad fine?"

"Fine fine," Jensen says. Jared is still a little sweaty, but he's warm and solid and Jensen always likes the way he smells. "Busy." He drops his head on Jared's shoulder and closes his eyes. He could go for a nap right now before they make dinner. Having Jared move in with him was the best idea ever, since Jared's a much better cook and actually _enjoys_ cooking, and Jensen's eating better than he ever did at school.

"Think you've got room in your schedule for one more massage?" Jared asks hopefully.

"Why," Jensen says, "you think I'm giving one to you? Freeloader."

"Dude, I worked hard today," Jared protests, "like, sleeping, and, um. Running lines. Writing cover letters."

"Sound tough," Jensen says, giving Jared one more kiss on the cheek and clambering off the couch. "Shower your disgusting self first, and then we'll talk."

Jared limps and whines his way to the bathroom and Jensen watches the way he's walking just to be sure. Jared works out during the school year as much as he ever did his summers as a lifeguard, and Jensen certainly doesn't suffer. Jared is favoring his right leg a little, not so much that it hinders him entirely but enough that it slows him down. Ice tonight and a day of rest should set him right, but Jensen isn't _actually_ going to deny him a massage. He might get one of his own in return, if he plays his cards right.

He sifts through the junk mail on the counter and throws out what he can, waiting until he hears the shower go on and the change in tone that means Jared is under the spray. Jensen picks up his backpack and carries it to their bedroom, and then detours to the other room Jared let him set up as an office and workspace. His massage table is jammed in the corner, covered in Jared's discarded scripts and his own paperwork from the massage school. It was a decision he made after he was hired full-time at the clinic in Austin, and now he's got a PT degree and is half-way to also being qualified as a massage therapist, too.

Jensen moves the piles carefully to his desk and drags the table out into the middle of the room. He wonders briefly if it'll hold them both, and blushes at the thought. Really he ought to have tested it before now to make sure. Maybe if they don't move around too much.

He hears the shower turn off and then Jared is in the doorway, wrapped in a towel, hair dripping.

"This okay?" Jared asks, grinning, and Jensen nods, biting his lip.

"Yeah, that'll do," he says. He pushes up his sleeves and offers the table to Jared, who climbs on and carefully lays down on his front, towel still around his hips. Jensen takes hold of the edge of it and Jared lifts up a fraction so Jensen can pull it off and drape it over him. He feels like they should start with some _semblance_ of innocence.

Jared puts his head on his arms and sighs, and Jensen strokes his hand softly down the line of Jared's spine. His skin is warm from the run and the shower, and he's already relaxed. Jared is an excellent patient to work on because he's always so receptive, just goes boneless under Jensen's hands. Mostly. After a while he gets fidgety, and always for the right reason. Jensen smiles to himself, feeling tingly just thinking about it, and takes a breath to steady his nerves.

"Any day, Ackles," Jared murmurs, and Jensen gives him a little swat on the ass.

"Be patient," he says, "this is an art."

"Sorry," Jared says, snickering, "of course. Carry on, maestro."

"Boyfriends who snark do not get hot massages," Jensen warns, pressing his thumbs in on either side of Jared's spine anyway.

"Oh good," Jared breathes, and he puts his head back down on his arms. "So it is a hot massage, then, and not just a standard massage?"

"Hot massages cost extra, pal," Jensen says. He glides his hands up Jared's back and steps around to the head of the table to work on Jared's shoulders.

"It's my thigh that hurts," Jared protests, but he reaches out and wraps his arms around Jensen's hips. Jensen's thighs hit the edge of the table sharply, but the position does give him better leverage on Jared's lats, and Jared lifts his head again and nuzzles his cheek against Jensen's crotch, for good measure.

"I'll get there," Jensen promises. “Icing is what's really going to help. I'll go gentle on it, but if it hurts say something."

Jared is warm and firm under his hands, even when he's totally relaxed. He gives Jensen's ass a squeeze and lets go, so Jensen can move to the side again. He works his way slowly across Jared's back, finding the points of tension and encouraging them to release, and Jared murmurs and sighs in encouragement.

Jared works part-time at the local elementary school as their assistant activities coordinator, and spends a couple of hours in the middle of the day picking kids up and throwing them around or whatever. He spends his mornings hunched over his laptop applying for permanent teaching positions, and four afternoons a week he's in rehearsals for a local production of _King Lear._ All the tension lives high in his shoulders and up his neck, thanks to the combined efforts of all his activities.

Jensen regrets not being able to take a day off when Jared had one today, but he left work a little early instead and has the chance to make up for it.

Jared shifts at Jensen's urging, laying his arms along his sides and resting his cheek on the table. Jensen starts at one hand, massaging each finger. He moves to the meat of Jared's hand, digging into the muscle under his thumb-- thenar muscles-- and then up to his wrist. The forearm is full of muscles and tendons that usually get neglected in consideration, so Jensen spends a good minute massaging the pronators and supinators, the flexors and extensors. Jared curls his hand into a loose fist, humming his satisfaction, and Jensen moves on to the upper arm. He loves the bulge of Jared’s biceps and triceps under his hands, the firmness of them, the way they flex and ripple when Jared’s just doing everyday stuff.

By the time Jensen reaches Jared’s shoulder, Jared’s face is slack with pleasure, and his hips are shifting minutely against the table. Jensen digs into the trapezius hard, making Jared grunt, and then leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. “You good?”

“So good,” Jared agrees, the side of his mouth that Jensen can see turning up in a lazy smile. “Keep doin’ what you do.”

Jensen turns his attention to Jared’s other hand and arm, kneading and massaging, and then spends a minute on Jared’s shoulders and neck. Jared turns his head when Jensen directs him and moans with satisfaction. Jared's fingers curl and extend at his sides, a sign that he’s getting impatient, and Jensen gives him one last squeeze before moving to the other end of the table.

Jared’s too ticklish for Jensen to spend the time he'd like on Jared's feet, but his ankles and calves are thick with muscle and really give Jensen something to work with. He’s moving a little more quickly now, impatient himself. This much prolonged, controlled contact with Jared’s mostly naked body is doing wonders for his libido, which is swelling his cock to half-mast in his shorts. He’s starting to picture what Jared would let him do now that he’s relaxed and distracted. Jared’s probably expecting to get fucked, something in which Jensen will gladly oblige him, and as Jensen moves up his legs he spreads them farther apart, sighing.

Jensen removes the towel and hangs it on the back of his desk chair, hands trembling. Jared’s cock is laying between his thighs, thick with blood, and his balls are full and tight. Jensen bites his lip and resists the urge to run his finger down the seam of them, down the length of Jared’s dick, and then throws that resistance to the wind and does it anyway. Jared sucks in a breath and his hips shift, and Jensen bends to kiss the small of his back.

“Tease,” Jared accuses in a rough voice.

“No name calling,” Jensen says against his skin, breathing in the warm, clean scent of him.

“This massage has a lot of rules,” Jared says, lifting his head and looking over his shoulder. Jensen meets his eyes, cheek resting now against the curve of his back, and smiles.

“I have a standard I have to maintain.”

“Sure you do,” Jared says, and he puts his head down again. “Well then, get on with it.”

“You make it sound like such a chore,” Jensen says, sliding his hands firmly up to cup the meat of Jared’s ass. “It’s not as bad as all that, is it?”

Jared shakes his head quickly and quiets down, and Jensen kneads his gluteus muscles for slightly longer than professional courtesy would dictate, and then moves carefully to Jared’s left thigh. Jared flinches and hisses at the first strong pressure, but Jensen eases off and finds nothing seriously injured, so he says, “Yeah, ice should do it,” and works on the other one. This one has Jared squirming, spreading his legs apart to better expose his cock, and Jensen skims his hands up the inside of Jared’s thighs to the crease of his ass. He pulls the globes apart and rubs his thumb slowly across Jared’s pink, exposed hole, and Jared’s breath hitches.

“Yeah,” he says, almost a whisper, and Jensen does it again, pressing more firmly this time, dragging the skin and exciting all the nerves he knows are there— both from experience and anatomy class. His cock jumps when the tip of his thumb feels the heat of Jared’s body, and his mouth is flooded with saliva at the want, the need, to taste.

“I want—“ he starts, and tries to think how this will work. The angle is wrong from the side, but if he bends over the end of the table he won’t reach. It’s not terribly wide, either, so climbing astride Jared’s knees won’t do. “Hold still.”

He puts a knee beside Jared’s ribs and swings his leg over, so he’s facing Jared’s feet. This way he can sit back on his heels with his cock snug against the small of Jared’s back, and brace his hands on the backs of Jared’s thighs.

Jared says, “Oh, okay,” surprised, and Jensen presses his trapped dick against Jared’s bare skin. “Fair enough.”

“Just go with it,” Jensen says, and bends his head.

With the first deliberate swipe of his tongue, Jensen can taste the lingering essence of Jared’s body wash, but he persists, working his tongue against Jared’s hole until he just tastes like himself— clean and dark and musky. He can’t keep his hands off Jared’s thighs, kneading and pushing on the muscles, and Jared groans and squirms under him, spreading his legs wider apart to give Jensen room.

“Fucking,” Jared mutters, “shit, Jense, yes,” and tilts his hips up. His hands find Jensen’s knees and grip tight as Jensen licks him. “Lemme turn over,” Jared says, “come on. Come on. Just lemme—“

“Sorry,” Jensen says, pulling away and wiping his mouth on Jared’s thigh, “busy.”

“God,” Jared moans, and Jensen watches his cock twitch against the table. “Wanna suck your dick so bad.”

His dick certainly thinks that sounds like a plan, and Jensen stifles a groan as it jerks in his pants, leaking. His only relief is the pressure of Jared’s body, and he rocks down slowly, shuddering with the pleasure. He wants to just grind away, thrust against Jared and come in his pants right now, but he sucks in a breath and the desperation fades.

“You want me to fuck you instead?” he asks.

“Okay, yes,” Jared agrees instantly, fingers scrabbling on Jensen’s knees. “Get naked, jesus. Been waiting for hours.”

“Hours?” Jensen asks, kissing the crease of Jared’s ass and thigh, biting down on the sensitive skin. Jared shivers beneath him and tilts his ass towards Jensen’s face. Jensen obliges, spreading his cheeks and licking him again, from his hole to his balls, nose smashed against the hard length of Jared’s dick.

“Yeah,” Jared says, panting, “just wanted— god, Jensen— wanted you to get home and just— sit in my lap and fucking, ride me on the couch. Was thinkin’ about it before I went out— ah fuck, yes— went out running, but then I— jesus!”

Jensen doesn’t stop licking or listening, teasing the muscle and spreading with his fingers, starting to open Jared up. He spits on his fingers and slides two into Jared’s ass, licking around them, and Jared clearly loses his train of thought, narration dissolving into moaning.

“Sorry to disappoint your plans,” Jensen says, breathless himself, and he has to stop his hips from rocking against Jared’s back.

“I’m not,” Jared says. “Fuckin’— Jensen, just fuck me already, you jerk.”

“Okay,” Jensen agrees. He doesn’t need to argue anymore, he just wants to get down to it. He yanks his shirt off over his head and throws it on the office floor, and then climbs off the table to shuck off his pants and boxers. Jared starts to push himself up, but Jensen stops him with a hand on his back. He clambers back up and settles between Jared’s spread knees this time. “Wouldn’t want to exacerbate that hamstring,” he says.

“Exacer— shut the fuck up,” Jared says, laughing, and pushes up anyway, curling his knees under himself and presenting Jensen with an excellent angle. Jensen cups his cock and gives it a few strokes to take the edge off, rubbing his thumb over the wet slit, and then against Jared’s already slick hole. Jared moans, pushing back, and Jensen replaces his thumb with his cockhead. He should get a condom— not for safety, they got tested, but for the mess— but Jared just says, “Just do it,” and reaches back to grasp at his hip.

Jensen presses in slowly, watching the stretch of Jared’s asshole around his dick. Jared’s trembling, trying to keep still, and Jensen rocks back and forth carefully, trying to make up for not really prepping him. Jared’s body swallows him up, dragging him in, until Jensen’s balls are snug against his ass and he’s as deep as he can get. When he finally bottoms out Jared lets out a long, low groan, and drops his head against the table.

“Yeah, perfect,” he says, muffled, his hips already rocking, working himself on Jensen’s cock. Jensen holds his hips and rocks with him, grinding in a slow circle, until Jared moans again and pulls away sharply to shove himself back again. “Come on!” he demands.

Jensen obeys, finally, letting himself loose, and starts to fuck him— slow at first, but gaining speed as Jared curses and groans. Jared's shoulders are flat against the table, one of his hands is on Jensen’s hip, and Jensen realizes the other must be underneath him, jerking himself off. He can feel Jared shaking with the effort now, and he pulls back on Jared’s hips until Jared lets go of his hip and uses that hand to push himself up. Now Jensen knows he’s jacking himself, can watch his shoulder working from behind, and he folds himself over Jared’s back to take over.

He can’t fuck as fast or as hard at that angle, but Jared’s cock is huge in his fist, and Jensen can tell he’s close already. He thrusts his hips in short, sharp jabs, following them with a slow grinding push, and fists Jared's cock fast and hard. Jared whimpers, breath hitching, and Jensen feels him swell.

“Gonna—“ Jared warns, head hanging low, and Jensen bites the back of his shoulders and says, “Yeah.” Jared gasps and his whole body clamps down as he reaches orgasm, ass clenching tight and cock going stiff. He blows his load all over Jensen’s poor massage table, covering Jensen’s hand, and Jensen tries desperately to hold on to his sanity. Then suddenly Jared pulls away, off Jensen’s cock, and rises up so Jensen has to go up on his knees to.

“Jay, what—“ he starts, glancing down, and his cock looks huge and red between his thighs. Jared turns over, spreads his legs on either side of Jensen’s thighs, and yanks him back in. Jensen’s dick slides right back into his ass, and he falls on Jared’s chest at the same time, off balance and shocked by the pleasure. Jared kisses him, licking open his mouth and gripping his hips at the same time, and Jensen kisses back and fucks him, hard and fast, driving towards his peak.

It hits him like a ton of bricks and he comes with a shocked moan against Jared’s lips, freezing in place as his cock jerks and spurts inside Jared’s ass. Jared returns the moan, clutching at Jensen’s ass and back, and kisses his panting mouth. He shudders through it, and then goes limp, all his coordination failing him at once.

Jared rubs his nose against Jensen’s temple and kisses his cheek, and Jensen manages to push himself up on his elbows. Jared draws him in for a slow kiss, his legs still locked around Jensen’s thighs. “Yeah,” he sighs, “that was the happy ending I was hoping for.”

“You are incredibly cheesy,” Jensen says, kissing him again, and Jared releases him from his arms so he can ease himself off the table.

“Sue me,” Jared says, sitting up. He glances down at the mess on the table, bites the corner of his lip, and Jensen snorts.

“I’ll clean it up,” he says. “Shower with me?”

“I just did,” Jared says, starting to slide off the table as well, but Jensen manages to get a hand between Jared's legs, fingertips pressing against his slick hole. “Okay, right, fine.”

“Thought so,” Jensen says, pressing an openmouthed kiss to the corner of Jared’s jaw. “Then you can make me dinner. Quid pro quo.”

“Can I fuck you in the kitchen, too?” Jared asks, palming Jensen’s hips and turning him away from the table to propel him towards the bathroom.

“Only if dinner is as good as that massage I just gave you.”

“Hard sell,” Jared says, grinning. “I don't know if I can quite top that."


End file.
